


where have all the good men gone?

by sirenofodysseus



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: Gen, Misunderstandings, Perspective Flip, trope bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2019-01-17 06:51:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12359937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sirenofodysseus/pseuds/sirenofodysseus
Summary: Thomas McAllister isn't a bad guy. He's just horribly misunderstood.





	where have all the good men gone?

**Author's Note:**

> Written to fulfill yet another prompt from my Trope Bingo card, _perspective flip_. Because who else would I want to write a perspective flip for? ;)

The first thing that caught Thomas McAllister’s eye, where Patrick Jane was concerned, remained the man’s flamboyancy. The second, being Mr. Jane’s unfound interest in the Red John case. Every week, it seemed, psychic Patrick Jane had some new _tip_ about him; and whilst most of them were endearing, some of them were not. Some of them made him so distraught, he felt he had no choice but to yield his knife and strike; to split a woman open and make her blood smile.

 

While he couldn’t (and wouldn’t) consider himself a hero, he most certainly wasn’t ‘ugly’ or ‘tormented’ either. He was _just_ a man, who wanted nothing to do with Patrick Jane and his lies—until the dishonest little worm of a fake psychic _made_ it personal between them on national television.  

 

So, Red John slaughtered Mr. Jane’s wife and daughter with the upmost remorse.

 

::::

 

The first time McAllister met the Serious Crimes Unit of the CBI, he had the inane thought to slit Senior Agent Teresa Lisbon’s pretty throat. If _only_ to save her from Mr. Jane, who once again, had stuck his nose where it didn’t belong. McAllister had invited the motley crew to Napa to assist him in the O’Keefe murder, and it hadn’t taken him long to discover that the _best_ California could offer was a set of _four_ imbeciles and a self-involved ass.

 

Agent Van Pelt, Agent Lisbon’s _newest_ addition to the Serious Crimes family, was a bimbo. Agent Rigsby, a food-obsessed idiot. Agent Cho had no filter, and Special Agent Teresa was _so_ terribly in love with Mr. Jane that her sense of self-preservation had died long ago.

 

He supposed, in some odd way, the universe was telling him to _continue_ as Red John. If the universe had wanted him caught—or dead—then it could have _just_ as easily found new individuals to put into charge. Or, he would have dropped dead of a heart attack already.

 

“You know rock, paper, scissors?”

 

McAllister smiled slightly. “I do.”

 

“Play me. On three.”

 

How could he say no to such a simple request from such a broken man? 

 

::::

 

His interest in collecting _friends_ wasn’t because he wanted acolytes. It was because each of them—Dumar Hardy, Rebecca Anderson, Craig O’Laughlin, Timothy Carter, Lorelei Martins—were broken and only he could fix them. Each one of them came to him, begging him to _right the perceived wrongs_ within their lives; and in turn, he fixed them with a purpose. He’d never once asked any of them to _die_ for him or his cause either.

 

Yet, Mr. Jane hadn’t blinked when he had gunned down Dumar Hardy in _cold blood_. He hadn’t even given pause that Rebecca’s act of despicable violence had, more than likely, been a desperate cry for _help_ from her meaningless life. Because, if the deaths of the so-called _black sheep_ of society led Mr. Jane to him, then what did it matter for anyone else?

 

In the eyes of the media, after all, Mr. Jane was a _hero_ for the same reasons _he_ , Thomas McAllister/Red John, was hailed a monster.

 

It just wasn’t right.                             

 

::::

 

After Dumar’s death, Lorelei and Craig had suggested he go after individual members on the Serious Crimes Unit. _An eye for an eye_ , Lorelei had called it whilst her arm had been wrapped around his shoulder. He had considered it. Even _dreamt_ of their decapitations and bloodlettings for a week after; but after the anger had settled and he had felt drained, he realized that he held no desire to follow in the footsteps of Mr. Jane or _his_ friends. He wanted to bring balance back into the world, not cause chaos with a variety of personal scores.

 

“We are not about getting even here or killing just for the fun of it,” McAllister had told them, his voice firm. “We’re about changing the world for the better.”

 

Unfortunately, _some_ deaths – Samuel Bosco, “Krystina Frye”, Luther Wainwright—were _collateral damage_. Wrong place, wrong time sort of thing really. McAllister always made sure to apologize, as did his friends.

 

After all, it was far easier to ask forgiveness than it was to ask permission.


End file.
